


The King, the Wound and the Princess

by lasihiutale



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 07:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17300279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasihiutale/pseuds/lasihiutale
Summary: You don't like Edmund. No sir. But then you were ordered to take care of him, as he comes back to the camp wounded.





	The King, the Wound and the Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mention of blood and bad humor

You huffed as Edmund tried to order you to do something, just as you were reading your favorite book. God, he was one of the old rulers of Narnia and he thought he had the power over everything. Even you. But it was a bad mistake for him to assume.

“Can’t you see I’m busy, Eddy? Plus, my ears have been nagging at me every time I try to sleep, because they don’t like listening to your voice.”

“Good. Because my mouth has been nagging at me too, for forcing it to make words for you to hear.” his right eyebrow rose at you and your lips quirked to a sassy smile, before you placed the book you were reading on the table.

“Oh, that’s great! You should listen to it, it’s a miracle, a part of you which is clearly more intelligent than you are. The only part of you, really.” you said and after that, you turned to walk away.

You didn’t like him, no sir. You did everything to avoid talking to him, because every time you had tried, you had ended up annoying each other.

But after that one day, when Edmund came back to the camp wounded from his right foot, because the Telmarines had attempted to snatch him, you were assigned to take care of Edmund. Of course, you fought at the thought of nursing that immature little bastard, but you had to give up. Everyone else in the camp had so much more to worry about.

The nursing tent was rather nice. It had a comfy bed, lots of nursing types of equipment and, a soft pillow and a huge blanket. Okay, it was  _really_  nice. At least if you were the patient, and not a nurse.

“Should I sing a nursery rhyme to you?” you asked, and Edmund scoffed.  
  
“No need to do that. You could rub my feet though, they’re tired after I had to walk that long way here from the place where that arrow hit me.”  
  
“Keep your smelly, sweaty feet to yourself.” you snapped and took a look on his wound, before starting to clean it.

It was quiet for a moment, if you ignored Edmund’s hisses when you cleaned and stitched his wound. After you were done, he looked up to you.

“…I didn’t believe you’d actually do that. Thank you.” he said and you raised your eyebrows.  
  
“Is the mighty king Edmund thanking  _me_? Gee, thanks!” you bowed at him and he snorted.

“Don’t think I like you, princess. I said it because you deserved it. This time.”

“Princess who deserved it? Great, now my ears are nagging at me because they don’t believe they heard you right and they tell me to clean my ears more often.” you said as you elbowed Edmund lightly. He scoffed.

“Oh shut up.”  
  
But after he had said that little silly thing, you felt like he was more likable. And maybe… you liked him as a friend in the near future. And maybe… he was your boyfriend sometime after that.

—

***the reader in this fic slaps me on my hands just after I wrote that*  
  
OKAY, OKAY, maybe too early to say! Jesus.**


End file.
